


Looking Up

by AlacritiousEidolon (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AlacritiousEidolon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaina Proudmoore has offered Prince Wrathion a method of augmenting his shapeshifting and, although it's not as instantly successful as Wrathion would like, it certainly helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Up

Wrathion had hypothesised this being easier. And, well, it /was/. It just wasn't as easy as he would have _liked_.

Shifting between fixed states was easier than moving into a brand new form. It was why he could flit between his existing and only _slightly_ draconic-seeming humanoid form and his original birth form without even thinking about it; but making his humanoid form more, well, _human_ -looking had been a trial. Why taking the form of, say, a cat, or a full elf rather than a half-elf, was almost impossible for him. And, he had suspected, why he'd been unable to change certain factors about himself - his face, his bone structure, and his... well. The parts of himself that only his consorts had any sort of right to an interest in.

But the bag of surprises that was Jaina Proudmoore had provided him with a boost. Her trinket had allowed him to alter his half-elf body in the ways he'd wished, albiet semi-permanently; the changes were fully reversible, but only with further intervention from the archmage herself. Which Wrathion, being an independent sort (at least when it came to his personal matters), didn't wish to bother her with.

So he'd worked on incorporating the new form into his shapeshifting. He was increasingly finding that he missed things about his old, original half-elf form - his height being the first. He'd been shorter; at least six inches shorter in total, and once he'd gotten over the initial balance issues with his centre of gravity shifting so far upwards in such little a time, he'd grown father fond of his taller height. But he'd also found it came with detriments - sometimes, he found, he _liked_ being shorter. It set some of his champions at ease, for example, loosening their demeanours and their tongues; it let him fit into gaps he wouldn't otherwise be able to without shifting into his whelp form; and it allowed Anduin Wrynn to safely nest his chin on top of Wrathion's head when they were standing.

There was also the matter of his... uhh. Genitals. He'd been most eager to change them to what one would expect for a being of his particular gender - a penis the length that Anduin's, ah... _toys_ were, and the rest of the equipment to match, including that wonderful spot just a little way up his rear passage which he hadn't known _why_ it made Anduin react the way it did until he'd experienced it himself. And he was certainly very pleased with this. But he also felt a certain odd attachment to the original arrangement he'd had, being a strange mix of a vagina the likes of which was usually seen on women, and a penis barely long enough that it could even be labelled as such yet acutely sensitive in the same way his new length wasn't.

He liked _both_ , for different reasons - and somehow, the resentment which he'd once felt to his original state was lessened now that he wasn't _trapped_ with it any more. He could change any time he liked, and that meant that it was no longer a symbol of the Red Dragonflight's longing for control over him. That, and he knew he couldn't _run_ from his origins. He had to take it and wear it like a crown, just like his parentage; not bury it away like some dark secret and let it turn to thorns for the next time it would be thrown at him.

So he'd been practicing. In the mirror, at first, regarding his height; he felt some manner of resistance in his shifting from the trinket itself, but the magic grew steadily more malleable as he worked it, rather like clay. It was still constrained between the two points, of course - a piece of clay was only as large as it was, and spreading it out or rolling it up wouldn't change its mass. But within a week, he was able to change his facial structure from neutral to masculine and back, hardening his jawline as he wished; broaden or narrow his shoulders within the same; bring his height anywhere between the five feet and six inches that put him shorter than Anduin, and the six foot nothing which put him taller.

As for the genitalia, they were... fiddly, but... he'd managed not to make any dreadful mistakes, at least. It was difficult to move them at _all_. But a strange sense of familiarity and almost _relief_ had washed over him when, on the eighth day of practicing, he'd finally managed to change them back to his original; then alacritious joy when he'd found it easy and immediate to transform them to their altered state once again.

Things, at least for him _personally_ , were looking up.


End file.
